Posted on by pattytacuri

Poetry: New Year’s Day 2022

I wrote this on New Year’s Day of 2022.

me on New Year’s Eve manifesting a year of calm and peace

Another new year, and there are no resolutions
Another new year and no better or new me
Another new year, and I’ll keep my expectations low
With a cautious dose of faith and hope
I want a year full of peace and calm
Where love for myself continues to be enough
Writing, running, and working fill up my time
Another new year and loneliness is not eating me up
and freedom feels like solitude
and this vacation from dating feels heavenly
and music and books are all of the pleasure I need
Another new year, and I just want to continue this journey
of healing from the past and self-discovery
It’s another new year, and for once, I have everything
I want in life

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: storni

I wrote this poem in December of 2024.

Alfonsina Storni found me on a cold november night
and it was what my spirit needed to be resuscitated
into feeling something
Alfonsina Storni found me on a cold november night
and I couldn’t wait to show mami
she dedicated Hombre Pequeñito to Papi
and we laugh at his expense for a minute
Alfonsina Storni found me on a cold november night
and I watched her 1957 bio pic with mami
we stood in awe at how progressive it was for its time
but at the same time understood how much progress
still needed to be made for woman kind

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poetry: new muse

I wrote this poem in December of 2023.

not sure when a new muse will appear
I just gave up on my most recent one
I can take a hint
he’s not interested
he’s scared because I’m too crazy
and will fuck up his life
and maybe he’s right
maybe I’m not healed enough,
not intelligent enough
maybe for him I’m just not enough
and this doesn’t make me angry
I’m in the acceptance phase
I’ll no longer bother him
I’ll just let him be
I’ll just wait for a new muse to appear
out of nowhere from my dreams
into my real life
my manifestation game is strong
though sometimes my aim is off

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: crushing

I wrote this poem in December of 2022.

I still smile at my phone every time I get a text from you
and ugh-crush season is here again-
even as I constantly say, nope, it’s over
we’re better off as friends,
I’ll never be enough for him
So I avoid you but you appear in my dreams
Sometimes we’re a thing,
other times you appear in the background
and I can’t even make it a week
without texting you-and haha-
Surprise, surprise I still like you and ew-
a crush in my middle age
it’s so fucking embarrassing

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: mediocre

I wrote this poem in December of 2024.

this really is me

Sometimes I miss our rollercoaster of toxicity
even when you came back to me sober
you still managed to emotionally dysregulate me
and destroy me
and while I’ve tried to find a replacement for you
no one holds a candle to you
no one brings me the level of excitement you once did
everyone feels meh and blah
compared to you, everyone is mediocre

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: demon

I wrote this poem in November of 2024.

that poet was Conan Gray

I found God as a poet sang on stage sang
“Don’t be scared little child, you’re no demon”
it was a moment of triumph acknowledging
that all of this time, I had been lying to myself
I was never a demon, or the monster larger than life
I had made myself out to be
I was just a flawed and imperfect child of God

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: friendship

I wrote this poem in November of 2024.

a love note from one of my friends

on days like today when the world hurts
and i can’t stop doom scrolling reminding me
that everything is burning
I put down my phone, pause and breathe
and ground myself in my friendships
which are a reminder of love to me
which are a reminder that no matter what happens
in this world, I have people to hold space for me
which are a reminder of hope
and because of that
I can keep on going

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: catnip

I wrote this poem in November of 2024.

a beauty so timeless men still flock to her
in her middle age
despite society’s conditioning that women
past 40 are past the expiration date
for sexual appeal
what was it about her that she was catnip to men?
Well, she was honest upfront about the thing
people don’t like to talk about

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: close to recovery

I wrote this poem in November of 2022.

part of my recovery process

outgrowing old patterns is like I’m shedding my skin
And new healthy skin is replacing it
at times I want to scream and feel like I’m dying
and other times I’m fine
Am I finally close to recovery from BPD?

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: white pendejadas

I wrote this poem in October of 2021.

encouragement
keep going

Trauma after trauma
I have withstood
Standing up right away and pretending
everything was fine
There was no time
for tears or processing
of feelings
That was a luxury for
the white upper class
Therapy-pssst
No time or money for
that either –
It’s gringo concept
Self care – that’s only
for the rich
No, you’re a latina Woman
our people rely on grit
and resilience
There is no time for white pendejadas
No, you’re a latina woman –
you only need the strength
from your ancestors
to survive this life

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poetry: the stranger

I wrote this poem in October of 2021.

crazy eyes
me and crazy eyes

I don’t recognize the
Stranger in the mirror-
the me whose face
has more chiseled features
with a stronger jawline
and haunted eyes
There is no idealism
or fantasies of love
in her eyes
Instead, she stares back
at me with a look
of strength and determination-
like she’s saying –
“You’re your own savior “
and
“There’s no such thing as
Prince Charming”
-“The princess has been left
behind and you’re now a Queen”

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: salve

I wrote this poem in September of 2024.

me in my poetry community

telling our stories, reading our poetry
building community
is the salve for humanity
let’s start another revolution of love
except this time without the drugs
this time let’s make something more inclusive,
more accepting of everyone
let’s keep the music, the frolicking in the fields,
the free spirits,
and let’s become a sanctuary for one another
if we do this, we’ll have a shot at breaking away
from the curse of violence that plagues this nation

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: to really love me

I wrote this poem in September of 2022.

to really love me, you have to know every part of me
and not just the parts I show you
but every single inch of my soul
it’s observing me when I’m quiet
or when I laugh in the most uncomfortable moments
to really love me, you have to learn about me
read my essays, my stories, my poetry
and understand what is not written between the lines
to really love me, you have to know not just what I like
but what I really loathe and why
to really love me, you have to accept everything about me